In honor of April being National Poetry Month, I propose to publish an original poem every day, and, (thankfully for you), some prose by a real poet.

Saturday

April 26

if it's not sand it's leavesa haikuI rake last fall's leavesfrom the corners of my yardwhere they were hiding

Here's one from the Lizard King though I can't quite picture Jim Morrison out raking leaves in his snake skin pants.

A man rakes leaves into a heap in his yard, a pile,and leans on his rake andburns them utterly.The fragrance fills the forestchildren pause and heed thesmell, which will becomenostalgia in several years.